


Call me when you're ready

by XKurapikaX



Series: Forbidden & Unrequited [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Mycroft Holmes IS the British Government, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Sibling Incest, Unrequited Love, almost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 14:06:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17265548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XKurapikaX/pseuds/XKurapikaX
Summary: A phone call leads to a discussion of an unreciprocated feelings.





	Call me when you're ready

Mycroft was talking through the phone, completely ignoring his younger sibling who was sitting in the opposite armchair, the one further away from the fireplace. The fire was lightening up his features creating a mask of indifference on his face. Meanwhile, Sherlock, still in his coat, was watching him intensely, surprisingly patient as for himself.

He had come just before midnight to give Mycroft an answer to a case he had given him. His intentions had been clear since he hadn't even taken off his coat; he hadn't intended to stay for a longer than a few minutes. However, as Mycroft's phone had beeped, his brother had nearly walked out, but as the conversation progressed, Sherlock lost all of the will to leave. Instead, he was listening closely and deducting. Mycroft didn't like that.

"Yes. Yes, of course."

He turned his head to glance briefly at his brother whose eyes never left him.

"I'll take care of it. Thank you."

He hung up and straightened in his armchair.

"Who was it?" Sherlock asked as soon as he put away his phone.

Mycroft ignored the question, intending to focus on the reason his brother had come to his house in the first place.

"Who was the murderer of Anthony Scott?" He inquired instead.

"Since when do you sleep with him?" Sherlock paid him no mind, his attention solely on the phone call. His brows furrowed.

"Sherlock." He demanded.

"You were tense during the call. Even though you're not submissive in real life, you took the submissive role during the call, hence an impression you had had to take that role before in a different fashion."

"And you arrive at the conclusion it is a lover's role?" Mycroft asked derisively before he could refrain himself.

"You started rubbing the inside of your thigh in an unconscious gesture that you associate with the person." Sherlock stood up, startling his brother.

The older Holmes thought for a second that Sherlock will turn and leave, angry that his assumptions were mocked. But his brother closed the distance between their seats and sat at the wide arm of his armchair.

Then, he put his hand on Mycroft thigh, slowly sliding it towards his crotch.

"Isn't it too intimate when someone else does it?" He asked in a low tone, his breath ghosting just over his brother's scalp.

"Sherlock!" Mycroft stood up abruptly, putting a distance between them. He immediately felt the hotness on his back from standing too close to the fireplace.

He observed the change as Sherlock's face lost all of its calculated and seductive expression, turning into anger mixed with confusion.

"Why-" He took a few steps towards him. "Why is he allowed to touch you like that? Climbing your ranks had always been more important than what you truly want?"

"You don't know what you are talking about."

"He's your boss!" He yelled. "You've got your brain, Mycroft, you don't need any other part of your body to get ahead."

"You know how politics work, Sherlock." He tried to stay calm while dealing with his dramatic brother. "I could avoid using advantages of my body, but then 'getting ahead' as you put it, would take months instead of weeks." He answered truthfully. "I'm rather pragmatic."

"No, you're not. Not at all. The drugs..." Sherlock was glaring at him openly, his furious eyes never leaving his brother's. "Why aren't you pragmatic in this matter? Rehab takes months, but if you'd only say yes..."

"We won't be discussing it." He cut him short.

"Why?! What are you afraid of, Mycroft?" He asked. "You want me! You want this. Don't deny it; I saw. I know. I'm not an idiot as you love to believe."

"You're an idiot if you think that the fact you want something gives you the right to do it, brother mine." Sherlock winced at his brother condescending tone.

"You clearly don't think so." He fired back cynically.

Silence cut through the air between the brothers. They stood before one another, Mycroft avoiding Sherlock's gaze. 

"The case; that's why you came here." The elder spoke quietly. "Who was the murderer of Anthony Scott?"

Sherlock inhaled deeply, apparently ready for another outburst.

"I'm helping you too, you see! I can take as many cases as you need me to. You can climb ranks like that." His words were too forceful to sound like a pleading.

"Who was the murderer?"

"It would a beneficial arrangement for both of us."

"Who?" Mycroft raised his voice.

An icy look covered Sherlock's expression.

"Screw you." He said coldly. "Find out for yourself."

Sherlock left the room without looking back.

Mycroft let out a deep sigh and heavily stepped back to the abandoned armchair. He sat again and hid his face in his hands. He let his thoughts wander for a moment, then deleted the conversation with his brother in his mind palace. Sherlock would be mad and he wouldn't know why, but hadn't he been always mad about something?

Later the day, he reread the files of Anthony Scott's case.

The killer. The maid.

Time to work.

 

**Author's Note:**

> It's about time I wrote something for the Mylock fandom


End file.
